


Hold On For A Minute (or more)

by fractalgeometry



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Asexual Aziraphale (Good Omens), Asexual Crowley (Good Omens), Communication, Crying, Fluff, Hugs, M/M, Other, Touch-Starved, Touch-Starved Aziraphale (Good Omens), Touch-Starved Crowley (Good Omens), in a good and cathartic way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:27:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26374939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fractalgeometry/pseuds/fractalgeometry
Summary: The evening is drawing to a close, Crowley is headed home, everything is normal. And then Aziraphale hugs him. Which is not normal. Crowley certainly isn’t complaining, though, and Aziraphale doesn’t seem to be in a hurry to let go either.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 48
Kudos: 166





	Hold On For A Minute (or more)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CCs_World](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CCs_World/gifts).



> This was inspired by CCs_World, who suggested “a goodbye hug when crowley is leaving the bookshop after a nice evening and he isn't expecting it and freezes up for a minute? and then returns it just. so so tightly and they don't let go for a really long time,” to which I was like, “wow, okay, I want to write this now”. So I did, and it turned into one of my favorite fics I’ve written yet, and here it is for all of you now.

Crowley lounged on the sofa, half-filled wine glass hanging precariously from his hand. Aziraphale was sitting, as relaxed as he ever sat, in his usual chair. Neither of them were  _ drunk, _ Crowley thought. Just not quite sober. The conversation had petered out some time ago, leaving behind a comfortably companionable silence. 

His eyes fell on the clock. It was, he thought slowly, quite late. Apparently. He took another sip of wine.

“I ought to be getting on home sometime,” he said, only a trifle reluctantly.

Aziraphale followed his gaze. “Oh,” he said. “Yes, I suppose you must.”

Neither of them moved. 

Finally Crowley sighed deeply and made himself sit up. He was, he realized, significantly more drunk than he had thought. And while he wasn’t averse to a bit of drunk driving now and then, he wasn’t quite in that sort of mood tonight.

“I’m going to sober up,” he announced, words a little wobbly.  _ Definitely _ more drunk than he had thought.

“I will too, then,” Aziraphale said. 

“You know,” Crowley said a moment later, now mostly sober. “It’s the seconds immediately after that make me wonder if it’s even worth drinking at all.”

“Mm,” Aziraphale agreed. “You going to swear off drinking, then?”

“And would you look at that, those seconds are over!” Crowley absently miracled his glass to the sink and stood up. “See you tomorrow?”

“I don’t see why not,” Aziraphale replied, standing up and falling into step with Crowley as they headed for the door. “How about around four? I’ll close the shop before everyone gets off work and decides to stop in on their way home.”

“You are a sneaky bastard,” Crowley said, with fondness.

“Pure happenstance,” Aziraphale said, stopping to smile at him.

“Of course,” Crowley said, nearly managing to keep a straight face.

And then. 

Aziraphale reached out. 

And then.

Aziraphale’s hand brushed Crowley’s waist.

And then.

Aziraphale stepped closer. His arms slipped around Crowley, pulling them closer still, hands pressing against Crowley’s back.

_ Aziraphale was hugging him. _ With no warning, no lead-up, nothing. As if this is a thing they did, ever. Crowley was very certain it was not. He would remember. 

Oh no, he hadn’t moved. He was just standing there, stiff and awkward. Any minute now Aziraphale was going to pull away, and he’d realize it was a mistake, or worse, he’d think  _ Crowley _ didn’t want to hug him. That wouldn’t be all right at all. That would be terrible. He  _ really didn’t want Aziraphale to let go. _

He brought his hands up on the power of that thought alone, put his arms around Aziraphale’s upper back, and he  _ squeezed _ with all the force of his desire for this to keep going for a significant amount of time yes  _ please. _

Aziraphale seemed to get the message. At least, he didn’t loosen his grip, or step away, or chidingly say, “Crowley, please, this is a bit excessive, don’t you think?” He just stayed there, silent, and if anything seemed to hang on even tighter. 

Crowley dropped his head to rest on Aziraphale’s shoulder, because he was pretty sure he couldn’t have kept it up much longer if he tried. He thought he might have made some sort of noise — a vocalized sigh, maybe, or, if he were being far more honest with himself than he was up for, a small whimper — but that wasn’t what his brain was thinking about.

Aziraphale’s hand moved, gently rubbing a circle on Crowley’s back, as though he had heard whatever the noise was. Crowley clutched tighter again, burying his face more firmly in Aziraphale’s shoulder. There were tears coming out of his eyes, he realized, and soaking into Aziraphale’s coat. Was he crying? He must be crying. 

As if to confirm this thought, his shoulders shook on his next inhale, and more tears fell. Stupid corporation, betraying him like this. And yet, Aziraphale must have noticed by now, and he still wasn’t leaving. He was standing there, holding Crowley as tightly as Crowley was holding him, and moving his hand in that damned calming circle on Crowley’s back.

For the first time in the history of the world, Anthony J. Crowley, suave, flashy demon, let himself cry in someone else’s presence. 

~

Crowley stopped crying eventually. He wasn’t sure how long it took, though it was definitely much longer than any hug he had ever heard of had lasted. Aziraphale hadn’t spoken, or moved away, or given any indication that he wanted to be doing anything besides exactly what he was doing right now. Crowley was, in spite of himself, indescribably grateful. 

They stood in silence for a little while after Crowley’s tears stopped. Finally, Crowley lifted his head.

“I should probably be going home,” he said. His voice was a little rough, and far quieter than usual. Probably to be expected after what had just happened.

“Yes,” Aziraphale said, still not letting go. “That makes sense.”

They both sighed, in such synchronization that Aziraphale began to giggle. Then Crowley started to laugh, and then they were both laughing and hugging — whoops, hadn’t quite managed to let go yet — and Crowley’s nose wasn’t entirely clear from crying yet, so he snorted, and then they were both laughing more. 

Finally the laughter died down, and Crowley loosened his grip at last. Aziraphale followed suit, and their arms slipped free of each other. Aziraphale stepped away at last, but it didn’t feel like the rebuke Crowley had been fearing. It was only an acknowledgement that the hug was complete. Not just ended. Complete.

“Are we going to talk about this?” Crowley asked after a moment.

“Is there something you feel needs to be talked about?” Aziraphale asked.

Crowley sighed, gustily. Aziraphale  _ knew _ he was bad at wording things. “Is this a thing we do now? Am I supposed to just ignore it?”

“I’d rather you didn’t,” Aziraphale said. “Ignore it, that is. I rather thought we might make a habit of it, if you’re amenable.”

“If I’m-” Crowley broke off and rolled his eyes. “What part of what just happened made you think I  _ wouldn’t be amenable.” _

“It never hurts to check,” Aziraphale pointed out.

“Fine. Sure. Never hurts,” Crowley repeated. “I’m very, very open to making a habit of that.”

“And perhaps shorter ones, sometimes?” Aziraphale asked. “We can do it more often, that way.”

_ “Yes,” _ Crowley said. “Good plan. I like it.”

“Oh, good!” Aziraphale beamed. “I did hope you would.”

“And you were right, yes, wonderful,” Crowley said, with none of the bite his words suggested.

Aziraphale didn’t stop smiling. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Crowley.” He reached out, took Crowley’s hand, and squeezed it gently.

“See you,” Crowley replied, through a suddenly closed throat. He squeezed back.

Then he grinned, hoping that it would convey even a fraction of the happiness he was feeling, and ducked out the door with Aziraphale’s answering smile still filling his vision.

It was, he decided as he got into the Bentley, a wonderful night.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed reading this anywhere near as much as I enjoyed writing it. Comments make my day, especially on things that I love like this, so please do leave one if you have any ideas of what to say! :)


End file.
